Chapter 760

Chapter 760

Enkrid shifted his focus toward Roman. He wondered why this man had been struggling here, allowing himself to become a toy for a parasitic creature. ‘It is because Oara faces no current danger.’ That was the only reason Roman could justify abandoning his station. The city of Oara stood as the proud testament of Knight Oara. Had Roman come here while his city was under threat, Enkrid would have felt no hesitation in executing him for desertion. However, Roman was not a complete idiot. His presence here confirmed that Oara was presently secure. What was the natural conclusion of that fact? ‘The influence of the Demon Realm has been purged from Oara.’ Even the lingering shadows of the Gray Forest must have been totally eradicated. If that were the case, there was no longer a logical reason to keep a specialized, high-impact force stationed there. The math was simple: a portion of Oara’s veteran military could now be reassigned to this location. This opened the door for establishing a permanent, self-sustaining foothold here. Oara was a settlement populated by warriors. In truth, the standing forces of the Border Guard had even based their own drills on the techniques perfected in Oara. It was a bastion designed for the sole purpose of war—formerly known by the name Thousand Brick. What if they replicated that architectural philosophy to birth a second Thousand Brick on this site? While a fortress could not be summoned out of thin air, human engineering had made massive leaps in efficiency. With the backing of the Kingdom of Naurillia— ‘It might be finished in less than a year.’ Perhaps six months if they worked with urgency. If the priority was simply the perimeter fortifications, that window was more than enough. In that short time, a new defensive line could rise. A wall staring down the Demon Realm. It would mark the creation of a fresh military hub and the formal growth of the kingdom’s borders. The local threats and predators had already been purged by his hand, creating a temporary pocket of safety in an otherwise cursed land. Typically, the hardest part of founding a frontier outpost was clearing the monsters—but that labor was already complete. ‘Furthermore, by diverting a segment of the western mercantile routes through this point, we create a new commercial artery and broaden the reach of the market.’ Essentially, this would transform into a bastion for humanity, reclaimed from the grasp of the Demon Realm. This strategy had taken root in his mind the very second he encountered the denizens living under the shadow of the corruption. “Did your vision truly extend that far?” Rem spoke, her voice laced with skepticism. “I’ll leave the logistical specifics to Kraiss. He is capable of managing the details.” While those plans unfolded, the garrison from Oara could hold the line, sparing the kingdom’s central military from being stretched too thin. “There are moments, Captain, when the depths of your mind truly baffle me,” Audin noted with a sense of wonder. Had Enkrid lacked his prowess with a blade, his intellect alone would have ensured his success in the world. Yet, for Enkrid, this wasn’t the result of agonizing over maps and charts. The moment he committed himself to the protection of these people, the solution simply materialized. Perhaps the experience of living through endless iterations of this single day had honed his instincts to automatically identify the most efficient path forward. As the realization settled, Enkrid contemplated silently: ‘Do I owe a debt of thanks to the Ferryman?’ But because he was currently awake and not in the dreamscape, the Ferryman offered no silence in return. Shaking off the thought, he turned his gaze toward the horizon. How long had they been stationed here? His actions lately hadn’t just been a subtle invitation; he was practically throwing a grand gala to attract attention. ‘He still hasn’t arrived.’ Balrog was nowhere to be found. The explanation was obvious. He hadn’t yet become a significant enough beacon of chaos. To fix that, he would have to ignite a conflagration so bright it could be seen from the furthest reaches of the world. A fire that would force even the distant eyes of the demon lords to take notice. He needed to generate rumors so potent and pervasive that they could not be brushed aside. He wanted the demons themselves to speak his name in hushed tones. Enkrid’s eyes drifted to the horizon. Though no physical boundary existed, his gaze pierced toward the heart of the Demon Realm. What secrets were buried in that dark interior? “Much like our own forward outposts, the Demon Realm maintains its own hubs of power.” Zoraslav had mentioned that once. It was a piece of information shared back when their circumstances were very different. Recalling those words made his pulse quicken. He felt a rush of genuine excitement. By comparison—if the Gray Forest near Oara was a mere pond, the territory ahead was a vast, uncharted sea. A pitch-black ocean of unknown terrors and depths was beckoning to him. And this was merely a single breach in the southern theater—a gap born because even the massive southern line couldn’t be everywhere at once. No earthly temptation, no matter how beautiful or alluring, could make his heart thrum with this level of intensity. “What’s with that smirk?” Rem asked, observing his expression. “It looks like it’ll be enjoyable.” “Hah. You’re definitely plotting something incredibly reckless again, aren’t you?” Enkrid looked at her as she spoke. He suspected the fire in her eyes matched his own. “Are you coming?” “Obviously.” The confirmation was instantaneous.

“It was a wise decision to avoid a confrontation.” The leader of the merchant city gestured in agreement toward the mercenary commander. He had initially felt a spark of doubt when he saw them departing from the city’s immediate vicinity, but that hesitation had quickly evaporated. “Regardless, we must track their trajectory. Mobilize every informant and guild at our disposal.” Enkrid and the Mad Order of Knights were viewed as a lethal variable, feared even by the most established spy networks on the continent. In the past, various hitman syndicates had attempted to collect bounties on them—only to be erased from existence. And “erased” was the literal truth. The assassins didn’t just die in the field; the organizations that commissioned the hits were systematically hunted down and destroyed. Since most information brokers also dabbled in contract killing, the mere mention of the Mad Order sent shivers through their ranks. After the remnants of the notorious Geor Dagger were found at one of the failed ambush sites, the risk was deemed far too high. Consequently, no shadow-dweller in the Central Continent dared to target them anymore. Under these conditions, planting a mole or using deception was nearly impossible. The saving grace was that the Order didn’t bother hiding their tracks. Even better—the Gilpin Guild held a monopoly on high-tier intel regarding them and was willing to sell. The only hurdle was the exorbitant price in krona. But as a hub of commerce, the trade city was essentially a mountain of gold. They paid whatever was necessary to stay informed. Through these reports, they learned that the Mad Order had reached the very threshold of the Demon Realm and decimated every creature in their path. “I told you. Just give up. Negotiate. If we had tried to trade blows with them, I would have handed in my resignation on the spot,” the mercenary commander remarked. It was a jarring statement coming from a warrior known as “the Indomitable,” yet it carried weight. A fleeting ambition crossed the mayor’s mind. ‘If I could only bring those knights under my banner…’ With such a force, his city could easily transition into a sovereign kingdom. “Tch.” The mayor exhaled, dismissing the fantasy. He had no real desire for a crown. His only goal had been to provide security for his family and his citizens, and he had been remarkably successful thus far. Many peers criticized him for being overly cautious and focused on survival, but he had watched countless ambitious men march to their graves. “I was a simple street peddler at seventeen. Almost none of my peers from those days are still breathing. How did I reach this summit? By staying behind the gamblers, watching the play from the tall grass, and outliving the idiots who didn’t value their own necks. That is my secret. What else do I need? If I possess a talent, it is the ability to read people. That is why I purged the disloyal early—and why I am still here.” “…Where is this sudden speech coming from?” In private, the mercenary leader was more like a confidant. He listened patiently as the mayor spoke over their drinks, recognizing the familiar rhythm of the man’s drunken ruminations. “I’m telling you, it’s my instinct. Now is the time to bow our heads and wait. Mark my words. The victors are the ones who stay standing the longest. Survival is the ultimate triumph.” The mercenary commander couldn’t argue with that logic. That was why he advocated for cooperation. “So, will you finalize the agreement with the Border Guard?” the commander inquired. The mayor nodded firmly. “I have no choice.” Calling it a “contract” was perhaps too formal. It was an accord of mutual defense—a promise to provide reinforcements if a crisis arose. The offer had come from a man named Kraiss, representing the Border Guard. ‘What is Lord Greyham preoccupied with that he cannot show himself?’ They had a history with Greyham’s side. To put it bluntly, he was someone they could manipulate. This Kraiss, however, was a different breed entirely. The power dynamic had shifted. To even secure a promise of protection, the city would have to part with massive quantities of gold. It was a staggering expense, but a necessary one. Perhaps it was due to the strange sightings of monsters along the riverbanks lately. “The mercenaries can manage those beasts,” the Indomitable commander stated with certainty. That was acceptable for now. This was more of a blood-oath than a simple business deal. They had initially considered sending a legendary beauty to the Border Guard to try and secure a marriage alliance, but after catching sight of the two women known as the Gold Fairy and the Black Flower, the city’s candidates lost all confidence. Besides, it was common knowledge that Enkrid wasn’t the type to be swayed by a parade of women in his chambers. ‘If that had been a viable path, she might have at least secured a spot as a minor consort.’ Now, this diplomatic submission was the only way to avoid becoming a target. It was slightly nerve-wracking, but the Border Guard’s stance was clear: “This pact is rooted in a knight’s honor. We do not violate our word. Provided you do not betray us first.” Removing the flowery rhetoric, that was the soul of the agreement. “Yes. I will place my faith in them.” The name Enkrid carried immense weight. He was a man who commanded both absolute trust and absolute terror. ‘That insanity of his, walking right into the Demon Realm…’ No matter the outcome, he was not an individual anyone wanted as an adversary.

High Paladin Overdeer had also received the reports regarding Enkrid’s movements. “The God of the Scales must have bestowed upon him a divine madness while stripping away his capacity for fear.” He laughed as he spoke, though a flicker of genuine unease crossed his face. Hearing this, Noah—the newly ascended Pope—offered a soft, compassionate smile. “I see it differently. I believe he is simply driven by a pure urge to safeguard those trapped on the front lines. If there is any assistance we can provide, I wish to offer it.” “There are methods, certainly. However, I doubt such a move would favor your political standing, Your Holiness.” This time, the warning came from the Ragged Saint. “I hold the duty of protecting the innocent in higher regard than my own title,” Noah replied firmly. Overdeer let out a hearty chuckle. That was precisely the temperament required of a Pope. “Then let us proceed!” Status, power, and political maneuvering were secondary to the mission of saving lives. Thus, the Demon Heresy Purging Priesthood was mobilized. Responding to Noah’s appeal, they accepted the task with enthusiasm, noting that they were already indebted to him.

“He’s a brother to me, but for God’s sake—the man is completely out of his mind.” Crang repeated his usual refrain. Occupying a throne hadn’t stripped him of his blunt way of speaking in private. “A monarch who was prepared to declare war on the Empire the moment that friend went missing doesn’t have much room to talk, does he?” Sitting across from him in the private lounge, Crang squinted at his guest. “I should probably have you executed for insulting your sovereign, Count Marcus.” A king’s displeasure usually carried the weight of a death sentence. The lord of Naurill, the heart of Naurillia, spoke with a low, controlled intensity—his anger palpable. Even in a private setting between old friends, a count mocking a king’s resolve was a bold move. “Spare me the drama. I’m liable to ruin these trousers out of ‘terror,’ so let’s just drop the act,” Marcus shot back, entirely unfazed. Crang knew Marcus wasn’t easily intimidated by posturing. In fact, he had expected that exact reaction. “Fine, fine. Moving on. How can we provide support?” “If we treat his campaign against the Demon Realm as a private venture, it’s simple. But the moment the crown’s authority is attached to it, everything gets complicated. And as you know—our resources are tapped. The knightly orders guarding the southern borders are already at their breaking point.” Deploying the Red Cloak Order wasn’t an option. Marcus remained adamant on that point. There was the delicate matter of the throne’s reputation, and they had already caused enough upheaval recently. “It’s not as if they’re begging for reinforcements anyway.” Crang understood Enkrid’s character. Despite their lack of daily contact, there was a fundamental bond of friendship that gave him insight. “He’s clearing out the corruption and holding the territory, yes? We were aware of that blighted city’s coordinates and chose to ignore it. If the crown tries to seize that land now? Enki will never permit it.” He would either burn it to the ground or liberate it—he was a man of extremes. Stagnation was not in his vocabulary. Naurillia was well aware that tainted survivors of the Demon Realm resided there. They had used a lack of manpower as an excuse to look the other way, but it remained an excuse nonetheless. Now that Enkrid was forcing the issue, they could use his momentum to finally address the situation. “If we are to send aid, Sir Andrew Gardner and a small, specialized unit should be enough. After all, it’s not more blades they need right now.” “Then see to it. Send them.”

Choosing to breach the Demon Realm didn’t mean an immediate charge. Preparation was vital—specifically, the maintenance of their gear. They also needed to locate the messenger who had delivered the news to Anne. ‘Roman can stay back to oversee things for the time being.’ They also had to ensure no wandering beasts remained in the immediate vicinity to threaten their rear. “The Demon Realm is frequently referred to as the Corruption Zone. I assume you’re familiar with the term?” Lua Gharne, always the scholar, stepped into the discussion. “To navigate that place, you will need ‘narratives’—at the very least, the myths and legends shared by the people living on the fringe.” While many of those stories were likely superstitions, Lua Gharne argued that they contained kernels of truth. After all, even if these people had once been followers of the Demon God, their lineages had survived on the edge of the darkness for generations. Following that advice, Enkrid returned to his disciplined routine. Just as he had in those countless repeated cycles, he focused on his objective. He spent his dawns in rigorous physical training. His mornings were dedicated to mastering the manifestation of the Will’s blade, following the path Ragna had demonstrated. From midday onward, he sat with the villagers, absorbing their oral histories. “Shall I give you another demonstration?” Ragna would occasionally act with misplaced pride, and Enkrid simply played along to keep the peace. “Let’s just kill him. I can’t stand his smug face for another second.” He ignored Rem’s constant grumbling. “The aura in this place is truly revolting.” He even found the patience to acknowledge Shinar’s endless complaints at his side. As Lua Gharne had suspected, the tales gathered from the locals were fascinating. Distorted by terror and reshaped by local tradition, they weren’t exactly reliable historical records. However, when viewed as the legends of a traveling storyteller, they were quite captivating.